Blackout
by Llyn
Summary: After high school Matt's fame is growing and Tai's a professional soccer player, but when the boys become roommates years of repressed desire can't be contained...if only they could remember what happened. Taito. Lemon. Yaoi.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Digimon. I'm just doing this for fun. Yaoi. Lemon.

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><p><strong>Friday: Tai<strong>

Face smashed into the pillows, groaning with the onset of reality, I sent a blind hand out to find my chirping phone. I groaned again when I heard the smooth but slurred voice of my roommate answering my grumbled hello.

"Taichi, come get me," Matt pled over bass so loud it vibrated my cell phone's speakers.

"Ugh," I rubbed at my eyes. I thought it was a perfect plan to move in with Matt the summer after high school. Between the soccer season and his shows we rarely even saw each other. But every time his band played in town I'd get the call after the after-party and after the after-after-party. _Come get me, Taichi_, he'd say, _everyone here sucks_. "There's no one there that could—"

"There's no one here and even if there were," Matt shouted defiantly over the music, "I want you."

I swallowed the sudden lump caught in my throat. _That's not what he means. Keep it together, dude._ Still, I was instantly wide-awake and plucking t-shirts off the floor with my free hand, trying to find something unwrinkled. It's not in my nature to leave Matt stranded. "Where are you?"

"Red Velvet," Matt shouted back, "Come."

"Okay, but stay there, man. Don't run off like last time," I said. But he had already hung up on me.

The club wasn't that far from our place, a short train ride, a few blocks walk. He could make it alone if he weren't so stubborn. If he didn't get off on waking me up. Not to mention he could afford a fucking cab on his rock star's salary. But this logic dissolved, as it had twenty times before, at the sight of the tall, gorgeous blond waiting outside the club, leaning against the wall with an easy air of self-importance, bathed in red neon lights.

"Let's go, you pain in the ass," I said, pushing through the drunken crowd of boys and girls and men and women preening around him, hoping he'd take notice.

Matt's eyes flashed at me but he answered in a loud stage whisper, "Oh, it's the great Yagami Taichi, the famous soccer star." This set off everyone nearby, buzzing like bees, Matt's words traveling faster through a crowd than alcohol through the bloodstream. He put his hand on my shoulder, "Come back in and be seen, soccer star."

"You smell like sake," I said, making him laugh.

"You look like you got dressed in the dark," he shot back.

"You woke me up," I said, hurt, taking his elbow and guiding him away from the club. His walk wasn't nearly as strong as his attitude. He turned to wave a middle finger at the crowd pining behind us, setting off a cheer and a barrage of camera flashes, his blond hair lighting up like a halo. He turned back to me grinning as if to say look what I can do, before immediately tripping over his own boots. I took him by the arm again, rolling my eyes.

"You're a ridiculous drunk," I said.

"Mm," he agreed, then looked at me with narrowed eyes, "So what'd you dream about, Tai?"

_You. _"Can't remember. I got rudely interrupted."

"Why didn't you come out tonight? We could both be this drunk," he said, demonstrating by letting go of my arm trying to walk a straight line down a crack in the sidewalk, zigzagging wildly.

"Come on, you know I don't go out before a game."

"Oh god, your game. Shit. I'm sorry," he said, quickly coming back to my side. But his earnest face curled wickedly in an instant, "Sorry, sorry," he said, smiling and trailing his fingers down my chest, "Sorry, soccer star."

"Careful," I said, referring less to this new, terrible nickname than my barely restrained impulse to push him into the nearest alley. He relented, laughing to himself. I'd never seen him so drunk before. He lagged further and further behind me until I finally draped him over my back and carried him piggyback towards the train station. For a lanky guy he was disturbingly light, heavy boots and all. His head lolled forward against mine, and I kept blowing blond hairs out of my face, but I didn't mind.

"Tai, you saved me just in time," he murmured gratefully, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, yeah," I brushed this off, "Just don't puke."

He didn't talk again until I dropped him into his train seat, sitting close beside him so he could lean against me. He came to with a laugh, holding his arm against mine, "Look," he said, head drooping forward, face hidden by a curtain of blond hair, "You're like this perfect color, this perfect, cinnamon, soccer star color, and I'm like…translucent."

"Well, that makes sense 'cause I _am_ a perfect cinnamon soccer star," I said, but he was right. Beneath the tangle of bracelets his skin was painfully pale under the florescent lights. Of course, I thought it was like everything else about him: cool and vulnerable and rare.

He pushed his hair back from his face and met my eyes, "Tai?"

"Yeah?"

Color rose on his face. He bit his bottom lip and looked down.

_God, do that again._ "What?"

He looked back up at me, hesitant, "I, um…" His blue eyes drifted down to my mouth and back up again, his lips slightly parted. I realized suddenly how few inches separated our faces, and just as the space between us began to close the train shuddered to a stop and the doors chimed as they opened at our station.

"Shit," I shot up out of my seat. Matt groaned and slid further down, one hand splayed over his face. I leaned against the door while Matt groped his way out of the train, refusing to meet my eyes. I didn't know, or hadn't known, or still didn't _really _know that Matt felt…that Matt wanted…_No_. Matt stepped groggily onto the platform, stealing a glance at me as he passed. _He's just wasted_. The doors hissed closed as I followed him away from the train.

"Okay to walk?" I asked him.

"Actually," he said, perking up and doing a silly little dance, "I think I've got my second wind. Should we get more sake?"

I just stared at him.

"Fine," he lifted his hands in innocence, "We're as drunk as we're gonna get."

I didn't bother to argue. Our building was within sight, and I couldn't wait to get back in bed after this night. There was too much to think about. Despite his so-called second wind, he didn't object when I took his arm to get him across the last intersection as quickly as possible. But ten feet from the entrance he planted his feet, "Wait."

"What is it now?" I asked, but he was already wrapping his thin arms around my neck and pressing his lips to mine, at first lightly, but then with more pressure, his tongue finding mine.

Everything had gone still and silent and slow in my mind until he broke off to look into my eyes and asked quietly, "Tai?"

That's when I lost control. I let out a growl I'd never heard myself make before and grabbed his hand, dragging him as he tripped behind me through the lobby and into the elevator. Before the doors could even close I pressed him against the wall, biting at his neck as he squirmed. I ran my hand under the black fabric of his t-shirt, tugging it over his head and onto the ground, kissing him hungrily while he clung to me, hips pulsing against mine. The door slid open on our floor but we only made it as far as the landing before we pulled each other close again, Matt's hands working the top button of my jeans.

"Wait, my shirt!" Matt said, peeling himself away from me and running into the elevator to grab it, just as the bell rang out and the doors closed.

_Fuck. _

I sat down on the floor and put my head in my hands, thoughts swirling. I worried he was too drunk to find our floor again. I worried that if he was too drunk to find our floor than he was too drunk to know what he was doing. I wondered if I knew what the hell I was doing, sitting on the floor in front of an elevator, running my tongue along my bottom lip, savoring the taste of my best friend's sake-flavored kisses. Then the elevator light popped on, and I was on my feet in an instant. I heard the bells growing closer and my heart started to race. The doors opened to reveal a shirtless, drunken Matt standing casually in all his cool glory in tight jeans and big boots beside a scandalized older woman, her eyes glued to the floor, face burning.

Then I was fighting the lock of our apartment door, stabbing blindly its direction with the key in one hand while I held Matt tight against me with the other, moaning helplessly when he sucked on my tongue. Matt laughed, the door swung open miraculously, and time slowed to a crawl as he pulled me toward his bedroom. I watched my feet following each other obediently, heard my shallow, rapid breaths, thought of Matt in a green sleeveless shirt, pissing me off by day, keeping me up by night with thoughts I didn't understand, thought of Matt in his school uniform, driving me crazy with jealousy, and saw Matt in front of me, falling backwards into his bed demanding help with his boots. Well. I practically ripped the laces out. He'd draped himself around my neck while I struggled to undress him, kissing my collarbone, making it hard for me to even keep my eyes open. I pushed him back down to the bed and started tugging the skintight black jeans off his narrow hips. This was harder than the boots, because Matt's hands, rather than helping me peel the fabric back were buried in my hair, pulling me toward him. It's true I gave in and spent what could've been a lazy hour but was probably a frantic minute making him gasp as I left a row of hickies on his neck, and then I was back to business.

"Dude," I said, not sure if I was sweating or wet from his kisses, "How do you put these on?"

"It's a secret," he said, arching his hips to help me, "but it's also Vaseline."

Finally, inch by impossible inch, all of Matt was revealed. I flung the jeans to the side with a matador's flourish and drank in the sight of him stretched out before me. "Tai," he begged, voice tinged with liquor and lust, eyes heavy.

That's when I decided I couldn't go through with it. I stood there frozen, trying to burn the image of him into my mind, knowing what I had to do. "I'll be right back," I said, forcing out every word, when all I really wanted was to stay, to put one hand around that delicate neck and graze his ear with my teeth while I whispered filthy promises. Instead I took one step back, and then another, and then I turned and left him waiting. I crossed the living room, locked my bedroom door behind me, and spent the night sleepless, horny, and terrified.


	2. Chapter 2

**Saturday: Matt**

I woke up. I puked my guts out. I couldn't remember a thing. _Bad, bad, bad._ There was the show, yes, then a carousel of sake shots, then? I frowned at myself in the mirror. _Bad Matt. _That's when I noticed the line of angry red bruises marching across my neck. "Goddamnit," _Not again._ Gingerly, I ran a finger over the hickies, each one hot to the touch. I closed my eyes and tried to remember who or what or when and came up with exactly nothing. Oh well. I stumbled back into bed, cuddled up to my massive hangover, and fell asleep wondering what terrible thing I had done this time.

No surprises here, I dreamt of Tai. Tai and I lying awake side by side under an alien sky, our friends asleep all around us. He turned toward me, supporting himself on an elbow, and, fixing me with those big, sweet eyes, said, "You're a ridiculous drunk." Then an enormous door slid shut between us and I was all alone in a tight box, breathing hard, licking my lips, desperately looking for the right button to press to get back to him.

I woke up horrified, shouting "Tai's game!" and fell out of bed in a tangle of sheets. I found my pants draped over a lamp and fished out my phone to find the time, but it was way too late to make it down to the stadium._ He's gonna pout all day, _I thought, already arguing with Tai's voice in my head. _Whatever_, I reasoned as I replaced my pants on the lampshade, _he didn't come to the show last night_. Which stopped me for a second, some vague flicker of memory, something important, something about Tai…but no. Nothing. Oh well. I pulled on a white v-neck and some comfy pants to make up for the brutality of last night's skintight jeans. The rest of my outfit from the show had exploded across the room. One boot was on top of my dresser, the other peeking out from under the bed. _At least I made it home._

Groping my way to the living room I turned the T.V. to Tai's game. I crumpled into the very corner of our enormous sectional, big enough to hold all the Chosen at once, and snuggled beneath the ridiculous faux fur wolf throw Tai had given me as a present. He'd delivered it as he did every present he ever got me: by throwing it unceremoniously at my face and saying, "Here." But this one stood out particularly because it wasn't my birthday. No, it wasn't my birthday, it was too expensive, and we both knew why he'd thought of me when he saw it. _Tai…_

The camera found him tangled up in the middle of the chaos, as expected. He looked like he'd been through hell, covered in sweat and dirt and a little bit of blood. His reckless smile was missing along with the dangerous glint he got in his eyes during big games or scary battles or petty arguments with me. _What's wrong with him?_ Without Tai, his team was trailing badly, and, in a moment of exhaustion, he looked up toward the sky and closed his eyes in helpless defeat. He pulled his jersey up to wipe at the bloody scratch on his face, revealing the lean, tight muscle of his stomach and I thought—I couldn't help it—I thought, _So fucking hot,_ as the announcers wondered what could be the cause behind the great Yagami Taichi's astonishing meltdown on the pitch.

"Poor Tai," I said aloud, to distract myself from my more immediate thoughts. _One day I'm gonna slip_. _I can't believe I've made it this long_. The camera followed him across the field, and I was as hypnotized by his athletic grace as the first time I watched him play, years before I understood what I was feeling. _Tai's off limits._ _He's my best friend, _I thought, chewing on my bottom lip,_ But maybe that's why it's so much fun._ I winced as he went down hard, tripped up. Living with Tai had become a wonderful kind of torture. Tai, always half-naked, repeat, under no circumstance ever wearing a shirt around the house, liked for me to sit on his back while he did pushups, complaining loudly how I didn't weigh enough. He was a master inventor of outlandish smoothie recipes, a master of jumping out from behind corners and scaring the shit out of me, a constant nuisance when I was working on my hair. The apartment was lonely when he was out of town. Sometimes he'd ask me to play harmonica and just lay on the carpet with his arms behind his head, sighing like a lost soul. _Tai on a train, eyes half-lidded, lips parted, moving in closer and closer and closer…Wait, what? _I tried to wake myself up, to grab onto that shimmering something. That flicker of…no. Nothing. Oh well. My eyes drooped again, and I pulled the furry blanket over my head. I really felt like shit.

I dreamt that Tai was peeling off my clothes. Not saying a word. Looking at me like he never wanted to look at anything else. When I woke up it must've been hours and hours after the game. The lights of the city shone in through the window, and a drunken Tai sat beside me on the couch, looking at me with the same hungry expression from my dream.

I sat up, letting the blanket fall to my lap, "Tai—"

"Do you have any idea how many blond guys I've fucked because of you?" he asked, casually, and before I could even register what he'd said, he threw a bottle of mango juice at me and said, "Here. For your hangover."

Still groggy, definitely still hung-over, I opened it right away and took a long drink, melting back into the cushions with a groan of pleasure. It was my very favorite. Wait, but Tai had said—

"And the problem with all of them is the same," he said, continuing his train of thought as he walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. He emerged with a beer and pointed it at me, one eye closed, "They smile too much. I mean, I get it. I'm fun to be around. I'm a fun guy. But you don't smile so much, Yamato."

My heart had already been pounding in my ear, as my mind, slow from sleep, started to catch on, but when he called me Yamato I pulled in a breath, shocked. Tai never called me my full name, "What are you talking about, Tai?"

He sat down beside me on the couch and stared into my eyes for a long moment, searching for something. The cut on his face from the game looked raw and painful, and I was holding his gaze, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his cheek, to ask him what the hell happened to him out there, when he made me jump with a sudden, "Ha!"

"Don't do that!"

"You don't remember, do you?"

"Remember? Wha-"

"You don't! You don't remember last night. I _knew _it."

"Last night?" I repeated, and he nodded, holding his head in his hand, laughing like a maniac, "Why?" I asked, "What happened?"

"What happened," he repeated, shaking his head, "I knew you were too drunk. Holy shit," he stopped laughing and looked at me abruptly in open-mouthed shock, as if I was following any of this, "Holy shit, man. That was a close one. You got lucky. Well, actually you _didn't _get lucky. So count yourself lucky."

"How drunk are you?"

"I dunno. This drunk," he held his hands far apart, unintentionally proving his point, "I mean, what happened? What happened was you made me lose worse than I've ever lost. First you woke me up at, like, four in the morning begging me to pick you up from the club with this fucking voice you have man, you shouldn't just use it on people. It's not fair. You fucked me up, I— "

"Wait. You're blaming me for losing because you came to pick me up? Just don't come next time," I felt the heat rising on my face. I really did feel guilty but it was hard to ignore my well-developed instinct to fight Tai, "I don't need anyone to take care of me."

"Shut. Up. That's not what I'm talking about," Tai rolled his eyes, "God, you and your fucking attitude."

"I can make it home by myself."

"No, _I_ can make it home by myself. Like I did just now. You _could _do it, but you like to use that fucking voice on me to make me do things. It's inhumane."

"You're wasted," I stood up, fists clenched, preparing to storm off. Before I could take a step Tai's hand gripped my wrist and yanked, pulling me roughly onto the couch. I pushed him away, trying to stand up but he grabbed me again and I fell onto his lap. I raised my hand to hit him but he caught it and flipped us over so that I was trapped beneath him. He twisted a hand into my hair and held my head still, bringing his lips to mine. I did the only thing I could think of, which was to kiss him back. If he was surprised, he didn't act it. Instead he pulled my body tight against his, greedily claiming my lips, fighting my tongue, until I was moaning for more of him, pushing my hips up against his. I had a million questions about the night I'd lost, about the blonds Tai fucked, and I was so disoriented after a full day of feverish dreams I didn't believe any of this was real, but the pressure of Tai's warm body, his insistent lips on mine felt so good it was hard to care about anything else. Slowly he untangled himself, releasing his hold on my wrist as he sat up on the couch.

"So you do like me," Tai said, "You weren't just drunk."

I wanted to know what happened but I also didn't want to break the spell. "Hey, even blacked out I have total control over myself," I lied, flicking my hair from my eyes.

"Right," Tai grinned his reckless grin, the dangerous glint back in his dark eyes.

Suddenly shy, I looked away. I guess I should've known what it'd be like—Tai and me—but the reality was overwhelming. A decade of my carefully constructed cool detachment couldn't stand up one minute to this smiling idiot. I felt my cheeks burning. He brushed the hair off of one of my shoulders and traced the line of hickies on my neck with his fingers, and I looked at him with wide eyes, the mystery of this morning solved. "Sorry about your neck," he said.

"Sorry you lost your game," I said, reaching out to touch his cheek beneath the cut. He winced away, catching my hand.

"Why don't you prove it," Tai said.

"What?"

"Prove it. Make it up to me," he said, before yawning enormously.

I know I should've sent him to bed to sleep it off, to put a lid on the mess between us for another night, but I didn't want to. I liked being so close to him, I liked the way he his hand grasped the back of my neck, fingers woven possessively in my hair, as if I'd bolt on him at any second. "Okay," I said, "I'll make it up to you." I shook his shoulder to wake him up. There was no doubt he was fading fast. "I'll tell you a bedtime story, Taichi," I said, lips against his ear, using my most inhumane voice. "Do you remember sophomore year, when we'd walk home together after your practices?"

Tai nodded mindlessly, distracted by my hand trailing slowly down his chest.

"Well, one day I was waiting around for you afterwards but you were taking forever in the locker room. Everyone else had gone home until I was sitting all alone in the bleachers. And then I dropped my phone. And when I bent down to pick it up—" Tai inhaled sharply as my hand found his dick over the fabric of his pants, "I saw you under the bleachers with some guy from your team. And your hands were in his hair and you were whispering to him—something really dirty—I mean, I couldn't hear you but I could tell it was something I'd never heard you say, and he was down on his knees in front of you. And, yeah," I realized for the first time, picturing the scene again as I had a thousand times before, "he was blond, like me."

"They're always blond like you," Tai murmured, struggling between the pleasure I was inflicting on him and the story I was telling. I tugged at the waistband of his pants and he helped me slide them down past his knees. His dick was long and thick and hard and perfect, like I knew it would be, but I had more to say first.

"I was so fucking mad at you, Tai. I ran home and punched the bathroom mirror so that it shattered. And that felt good, so I went into the kitchen and starting smashing every plate in the house. And that's where my dad found me, bloody and crying and surrounded by broken plates."

"Matt—" Tai moaned, eyes barely open past the fast pace of my hand.

"And it took me years to admit that I wasn't mad at you 'cause you'd made me wait around while you were with that guy. I was jealous because I wanted that guy to be me." Tai looked at me, and I looked at Tai, and neither of us breathed. Then I leaned down took him in my mouth. He gasped and pulsed his hips up against me, desperate, but I tortured him for as long as I could. Now fast, now slow, ignoring the stream of breathless "fucks_"_ pouring from his lips, the rhythmic squeezing of his hands in my hair, until finally I led him over the edge. I made sure he was looking before I licked my lips and swallowed.

"God," Tai said, as if he couldn't believe what he'd seen, "Matt…" He leaned his head back against the cushions, exhaling…and immediately fell asleep. Smiling to myself, I draped the fur blanket over him and turned out the light on the way to my room, tasting Tai on my tongue. _You better remember this tomorrow, goggle boy. _


	3. Chapter 3

**Sunday Morning: Tai**

I woke up with my pants around my ankles, and I didn't know why.

_I wonder how pissed he's gonna be when I tell him I can't remember._ I shot a nervous glance toward his bedroom door, finding it still closed, and sighed in relief. After I self-destructed in that game, I remembered getting absolutely hammered, too terrified to come home and face him. Then I screwed up my courage and burst through the door ready to fight or fuck or both, only to find him curled up on the couch zonked out like he'd been waiting up for me. Which was sweet. Then what? He told me he didn't remember the night before, and I teased him about it. We talked a little, fought a little, made out a little. _That's all good so far. Then…uh…shit. Why does this have to be so hard_?

Suffering from a hangover, a guilty conscious, mild paranoia, and a seriously busted up body from the beating I took on the field, I stretched my sore legs out on the couch and hid my pounding head under Matt's wolf blanket to better wallow in my recent failures. I'd never lost like I did yesterday. _Yes you have, _a mean little voice in my head said_, You've been losing every day since the day you met him._

My mind drifted back to a very bad day: Kari's fifteenth birthday. I'd innocently pulled open the door of my bedroom, looking for an escape—in the form of, I don't know, a pillow to suffocated myself with—from the new waking nightmare of Matt and Sora dating. Instead I found Daisuke pressing a more than compliant Ken against my dresser, legs tangled, hips grinding, hands everywhere, tongues performing a sultry slow dance that made me stop in my tracks and say, "Woah."

"Tai! Shit! Sorry! I—" Daisuke had sputtered, tripping a few steps backwards, turning red, but I'd waved it away.

"Don't bother," I'd said, closing the door on them, feeling more depressed than ever before. Because while Daisuke freaked as only Daisuke can, Ken had studied me silently, cool violet eyes betraying no emotion. He'd reminded me in that dizzying moment of a certain piece of shit someone who'd once held me in his arms and swore to never let anything come between us. Liar.

I'd stood in the hallway, dazed, fists clenching and unclenching, impulse to punch something battling my impulse to break something in half. The world had flipped over, and I was jealous of Daisuke. I didn't know how he'd succeeded but I knew suddenly why I'd failed so badly. Everyone loved me, everyone looked up to me. I didn't have a selfish bone in my body to use toward my own needs. Even though I wanted to grab that peacock by one slim wrist, tell Sora better luck next time, drag him upstairs with a hand clamped over his irritating mouth, and kick those little punks out of my bedroom, I just couldn't do it. I'm not a heartbreaker like Matt. So I'd walked back downstairs and spent the party sulking in the kitchen, eating an entire bowl of pretzels, one handful at a time. The shit he put me through.

A banging on the front door brought me back to my hungover reality. I pulled the blanket from my head and stood up a little clumsily, aching body in rebellion.

Then _he_ opened the door to his bedroom, pulling a shirt down over his head, and we both stopped to stare. Me frozen with my hands twisting closed the top button of my jeans, Matt leaning against the doorframe with a sexy indolence, running his eyes over me—slowly down, slowly up. A dirty smile spread across my face. _Holy shit, _I thought, all earthly troubles forgotten_, we're about to piss off the neighbors_. Then the loud, persistent knocking on the front door that we'd both been ignoring so well finally stopped, replaced by one of the few voices in the world that I couldn't ignore.

"Tai?" My sister called, "Are you there?"

_But, but, but I was about to..._I thought, my smile dissolving as Matt's blond head dropped in frustration.

"Yeah, yeah," I shouted, starting toward the front door, "I'm coming."

"Wait," Matt said, walking over to smooth out my hair into some recognizable shape, lust temporarily replaced by habit.

"Matt?" I asked, obediently holding still for him. Of all the countless times we'd done this I'd never fought harder against the urge to sweep him off his feet and pin him beneath me on the nearest flat surface.

"Yeah?"

Better to just say it. "Why were my pants off this morning?"

"You don't remember?" Matt dropped his gaze down from my hair to meet my eyes. At least he didn't seem angry. I shook my head guiltily. "Oh. Well, it's nothing really. I just sucked your dick," he said, as if it were nothing, patting me on the shoulder in consolation and leaving me standing there stunned while he opened the door for Kari, and TK, too.

"Hi, guys," he kissed Kari on the cheek and knocked TK's hat off his head, then he swept a hand towards where I stood, comatose, "He hasn't been taking that loss yesterday very well," he whispered loudly.

"That's why we came over," Kari explained, eyebrows knitted in deep concern.

"It's all over the news," TK chimed in helpfully, receiving a silencing glare from my sister.

She rushed over to take my arm, "Oh, Tai, are you okay? I've tried calling you and texting you—" She reached up to examine the cut on my face, which I twitched away from.

"I, uh, yeah, no, I'm—" I babbled, looking over my sister's head to where Matt stood, arms crossed, grinning wickedly. A shiver ran through me, just trying to imagine it. _God, I wish I could remember._

"When's the last time he ate?" Kari asked Matt, who shrugged.

"When's the last time _you_ ate?" TK asked Matt, poking him in the ribs, "You both look like shit."

Matt opened his mouth to protest, but Kari beat him to it, "TK's right," she said, peering into my face. I tried to give her a convincing smile, but that only made her frown, "Why don't you come get some breakfast with us?" She tugged on my arm while TK tried to push a resistant Matt toward the door.

That's when I finally snapped out of my dreamy haze and sprung to life, planting my feet and saying, "No, no, no, no."

"—just really not a good time," Matt was saying simultaneously, pushing back against TK.

"We're kind of in the middle of something," I said, "Can't be interrupted."

"In the middle of what?" Kari asked, folding her arms as Matt escaped TK to stand behind me in case of another attack, "Are you two fighting again?"

"No," I said.

"Yes," Matt said, and then looked at me exasperated, like, _can I get some help, here_.

"Is it about a girl?" TK asked.

"No," we both said at once.

"Then where'd you get those hickies?"

"Don't worry about it," Matt said, furiously fluffing his hair over one shoulder to cover the bruises.

"What could possibly be going on that you guys can't leave it alone for one hour to have breakfast with us?" Kari asked.

Matt and I looked at each other, considering telling the truth, then back at the curious faces of our younger siblings.

So that's how we ended up sharing a booth at a busy diner, Matt idling autographing napkins for a few drooling admirers while beneath the table his thigh pressed against mine. Every time he tossed the hair out of his eyes, the lush scent of his potent cocktail of hair products would send me back two nights, my face buried in his hair, sucking on his neck while he twisted beneath me, begging—

"Yagami! Better luck next time, eh?"

I waved half-heartedly at the stranger. That had been happening a lot since we left the apartment. Every time I'd get a word of encouragement or a hearty "You suck!" from a devoted fan, Matt would turn to catch the miserable expression on my face, barely suppressing his own grin.

"This is your fault and you know it," I whispered harshly at him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, soccer star," he purred under his breath, refusing to meet my eyes.

I snaked my arm around the back of the booth and tapped his opposite shoulder, making him turn around expecting to be asked for another autograph. When no one was there he spun back to find me laughing at him and punched me in the stomach so hard that I doubled over.

Across the table TK and Kari just sat and stared.

"What the hell is going on?" TK finally asked.

"What do you mean?" I asked, tapping Matt's opposite shoulder again. Not falling for it, Matt turned to glare at me just as I was getting the same blue-eyed glare from TK.

"I mean you're all over each other. More than usual."

"All over each other," Matt said.

"More than usual," I said.

"Come on," TK said, sharing a long-suffering look with Kari, "You two are like the most eligible bachelors in the city and you spend your free time in that cavern of an apartment making forts in the living room with your thousand count sheets."

"Hey—" I started.

"We only did that once," Matt finished.

"Well what about Sora?" Kari asked.

"What about Sora?" Matt crossed his arms, defensive.

"Well why'd you break up with her?" Kari asked, knowing full well why he did. Knowing all the intimate details, really, because after Matt had told me the bad news I'd hung up the phone, scooped Kari up off the couch and joyfully tossed her in the air like she was a little kid again while she screamed in terror.

"She wouldn't stop bugging me to go to her games."

"And why couldn't you go?" she asked, playing innocent.

"'Cause I go to Tai's games. Everybody knows that. They're better."

"They are better," I agreed.

"And now that he's playing in that giant stadium they always show me on the jumbotron," Matt said, self consciously patting his hair as if he were about to be on the jumbotron any second, "I love it when they do that."

"We know," TK, Kari, and I said, rolling our eyes.

"Look," TK sighed, "I'm just saying, I was eight when you two got shot by those arrows. I've drawn my own conclusions since then. So…" TK trailed off, looking at me to finish the sentence. Actually it wasn't just TK, but Kari and Matt, too.

I threw up my hands, "Why are you all looking at me?"

"We've always all looked at you," Kari said.

So I did what I always did and looked at Matt. I hadn't thought about that battle in a long time: Matt's fingers reaching out and lacing through my own. In that moment there was no one else, nothing else in the world but us.

Once, not long after that, restless on what should have been a peaceful night, I snuck away from the others, searching for Matt. He never ran too far away, which made it more maddening for me when he was gone. If I could just see him, the curve of his pale, resentful shoulder as he slept nearby, I wouldn't have to spend all night picturing him behind closed eyes. I'd found him in the forest just outside the village where we were staying. He' played his harmonica, cradled in the oversized roots of a tree, with Gabumon snoring close by. There'd been a sudden shower that afternoon, and the forest was steaming. The air between us shimmered as I approached carefully, like you would a wild, injured animal. He stopped playing, watching me warily as if he might decide to run. But I threw my goggles down at his feet and surrendered, told him I gave up, told him I didn't know what I'd done wrong, told him I'd do anything to get him to come back to us. I might've cried a little bit, I mean, who can remember?

Then Matt, who'd watched my outburst as coolly as a statue, stood up abruptly and grabbed me by my shirt. I flinched, expecting to be punched in the face—our preferred method of communication at the time—but instead he kissed me. We were kissing. But then we weren't. It was over before I knew it had started. Matt released my shirt with a little push that I did my best to resist. "Go away, Tai," he'd said, quiet, almost whispering it against my lips, then turned from me to gently shake Gabumon awake and, without a single look back at me, he'd disappeared into the misty woods, trailing his little wolf. It was my first kiss, and we'd never spoke a word about it. On bad days I thought I'd dreamt the whole thing.

Not anymore, though. I looked into his crystal blue eyes and sighed, "Okay, fine," I said, "Yes. Something's going on between us—"

Kari squealed and brought her hands to her heart, bouncing in her seat. TK shouted, "I knew it!" so loud and triumphant that half the diner turned to look.

"—But we can't remember exactly what, cause we keep getting blackout drunk."

TK's head hit the table, "You guys are hopeless."

Matt nodded in agreement.

"Why not just stay sober tonight and tell each other how you feel?" Kari suggested.

_I'm not worried about how he feels._ I thought of Matt pressed tight against me as I tried to open our apartment door, sucking on my tongue while I squeezed his ass through those impossible black jeans. That same mouth, last night…_fuck, I would've died to see that._

"What do you say, Tai?" Matt teased, "Want to have a long talk about what all of this means?"

"I'd rather make another blanket fort," I said, looking at him with an expression so predatory his eyes grew wide.

"Is that a euphemism?" TK scrunched up his nose, breaking up the scene between us.

"You two will never grow up," Kari shook her head with a smile.

Matt shrugged, "Endless summer," he said, by way of explanation, relaxing back against the booth with his hands behind his head.

Kari and TK looked at me, expectant, but I just repeated, "Endless summer," and tapped Matt's other shoulder again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sunday Afternoon: Matt**

Halfway through the elevator ride, Tai reached out and took my hand in his. I glanced his way, eyebrow raised, but he made a point of pretending to examine the numbers above the doors as they lit up one by one. I studied his familiar mess of hair, yesterday's jeans, threadbare t-shirt from an old soccer club, cuts and scrapes and bruises marking sun baked skin. _This is Taichi. Why are you worrying?_

He hadn't said a word since we left TK and Kari behind.

"Scared, Tai?" I asked, squeezing his hand, but he didn't turn my way.

He scoffed, "No."

"You're quiet."

He finally looked over at me, smiling like he'd found money in his pocket, "Just thinking about what I'm gonna do to you."

The doors slid open on the forty-second floor. Tai led me down the hall. The lock opened so quickly. I couldn't breathe, realizing with a sudden jolt that this was it. No going back. And if something went wrong…

"Tai, I've been thinking—"

"No thinking," he said, drawing me into the apartment, locking the door.

"Kari was right." I said, and I might have meant it, but when Tai drew me backwards against him I didn't resist. I melted. His breath was hot against my hair as I let him guide the hand he was still holding onto under the waistband of my pants. His fingers laced with mine, both of us stroking up and down.

"No, she wasn't," Tai supported my weight easily as I leaned, liquefied, against his chest. I let him take over and reached my hands up to tangle in his hair. He stroked so hard my eyes rolled back in pleasure.

"We. Mm. Should. Mm. Talk—"

"No talking," he slid a hand under my shirt to pinch my nipple, rolling it between two fingers, his teeth meanwhile sinking hot and wet into my neck.

"—about—ah!—what happened this weekend," I reached back to rub his dick through his pants, already hard for me.

"Weekend's not over," he said, pushing me away gently. I turned to face him, confused, desperate for more contact. "We'll talk tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," I repeated, brain short-circuiting. _Anything you say, just keep touching me._

He nodded his approval. His eyes were dark. "Take your clothes off," he said, a command, not a question.

I chewed my bottom lip, head somewhere between Jupiter and Saturn where all was empty and silent and enormously important, "Okay," I said. But if he expected a strip show he was out of luck. I kicked my shoes to the side, pulled off my shirt and stepped out of my pants. Done. Life in the music industry will teach you how to get dressed and undressed quickly. "Which bedroom?" I asked, head tilted, riding a sudden wave of confidence.

"Neither," Tai backed me up against our neglected dining room table and lifted me onto it, hands cupping my ass. He took a step back and stared. I leaned back on my hands, swinging my legs, watching him watch me.

"Are you okay?"

"No," he pulled a chair up to the table between my swinging legs and sat down, pulling me closer to the edge, "I don't think I'll ever be okay again," he said. My laugh at this silly lie turned into a gasp as his fingers wrapped the base of my dick stroking much harder than I ever would, just like before. My fingers curled around the edge of the table, knuckles white, bare feet grasping for a hold on the chair, something to hold me in place. Then I felt his mouth.

"Fuck," I whined helplessly, leaning forward to grab onto his hair, to push his head down faster, deeper.

He pulled away to look up into my barely open, pleading eyes, taking my hand and easily tugging my delirious body from the table onto his lap. He slid his index finger across my bottom lip and into my mouth. I sucked, eyes locked with his. He added his middle finger. I licked the length of the two, before taking both into my mouth, happy to hear that strange little strangled sound Tai made, watching.

Then I pulled his fingers from my mouth and guided his hand beneath me, squirming a little on his lap as we repositioned ourselves. His slippery finger found its way inside me. All remaining thought disappeared. My face must've given away some shock because Tai asked softly, lips against my ear, "It's okay?"

"Don't stop," I breathed. Inside, his finger hurt at first, that never-familiar discomfort, but as he explored further a whimper escaped me, and I hid my hot face against his neck, scraping my blunt nails across his back. He added another finger, his breath ragged with lust.

"I can't wait anymore," he admitted, taking his fingers away. I instantly wanted them back, but dutifully scrambled back onto the table, ass on the edge, pulling him to me for a kiss, interrupted only when I tugged his shirt over his head. Our tongues desperately acted out what our bodies wanted most. He pressed me down onto the table, the smooth, cold wood a shock on my naked back as he struggled out of his jeans, and then he was hooking my legs over his strong shoulders. His fingers were back inside me, moving fast in time with my moans. He seemed to be waiting for something before he went any further, so I got my mind together just long enough to beg, "Fuck me, Tai."

I felt the first, hesitant pressure of him and begged again, "Fuck me," and again and again, until he pushed inside, one hand grasping the back of my neck in that possessive way I loved and the other holding onto my hip hard enough to bruise. Soon, as the table threatened to break beneath us, the world narrowed to the friction of our bodies, his hot breath against my neck and the incredible, euphoric moans that escaped his lips, countered by my own. He lifted himself off me, picking up speed, looking into my eyes as he stroked my dick in time with his thrusts.

The ground could've cracked in half and I wouldn't have noticed. I was lost, my back arching obscenely, toes curling, "Tai! I'm gonna—"

Too late. Tai followed soon after, falling on top of me, panting. I shivered, my body as shocked as my mind. I'd been fucked but not like that, and not by Tai. _My Tai_, I reminded myself. Right under my own roof, this maniac.

"Come on," he whispered, helping me up, holding my hand in his for the short stumble to the couch, where we both collapsed gratefully into the soft cushions.

I don't know how long we lay there, sweat cooling, breath slowing. Eventually he pulled the fur blanket over us, and I turned from cuddling against him to look him in his wild, brown eyes.

"Hey," he said, sleepily, brushing the stray hair from my face.

"Hey," I said, and laughed, still a little out of breath, "Tai, _god_, just how many blond guys did you fuck?"

"Oh man," he smiled sheepishly, "I said that out loud, didn't I?" I nodded, not really expecting an answer, but he shrugged and said, "I dunno. More than ten, less than a hundred."

"A hundred? Where'd you find a hundred blond guys?" I asked, deadpan and disbelieving.

"I said l_ess _than a hundred. Are you jealous?"

"Don't get excited. My first record deal was practically signed in come."

He snorted, "That's messed up, Matt."

It was my turn to shrug, "No, I just meant, the way you fuck, it's…you're like…really…"

He didn't say a word, a grin spreading wider as my face got progressive brighter, clearly enjoying my awkwardness. But I was just trying to tell him…well, I hadn't thought this through before opening my stupid mouth. If I told Tai what I was actually thinking I'd never hear the end of it. _Your dick makes my mouth water. You fuck like a monster. They should make a statue of you and worship it twice a year. I want to quit my band and live in your bed. I'm sorry I ever doubted you._ He'd never let me live it down.

"You're…um…"

"I love it when you lose your cool. It's like watching a waitress trip at a really nice restaurant."

"Shut up," I pulled the blanket over his head. He pulled it down so only his mischievous eyes showed. I sighed, "We should've done this sooner. My dad was _never_ home. We could've—"

"No what-ifs," he said. I snatched the blanket away to reveal his mouth and kissed him, slowly, rolling him beneath me until I straddled him. Lips led to tongues, tongues led to teeth, teeth led back to greedy, swollen lips. I rocked back against his already half-hard dick, sucking gently on his tongue. He broke it off with a groan, "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Taichi."

"Give me a second," he said, covering his face with his hands, "A minute. An hour."

"No," I said, taking the hands from his face and guiding them to my ass, which Tai squeezed obediently, "I've been waiting too long."

"It was stupid to think I could fuck the Matt out of you, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, but you're not the type to give up," I said, grinding against him a little harder than before. Tai pushed back against me despite all his protesting.

"Mm, I already miss you playing hard to get. What were you trying to talk about so bad? Before I shut you up?"

"Oh," I blinked back at him, stumped, "I forget."

* * *

><p>Next up: <strong>Monday<strong>


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